I do not own Harry Potter, NCIS, or Criminal minds.
WARNING: Excessive testosterone, descriptions of blood and violence.
Chapter 6
Ianthe and Gibbs were eating dinner together at her house. She had made shepherd's pie, a salad, and sticky toffee pudding. She was wearing black skinny jeans, and an emerald green, ribbed mock turtle neck. Jethro was wearing a pair of blue jeans, and a marines t-shirt, with a flannel shirt over it. Cloony was laying at Gibbs' feet, looking at him mournfully, and hoping for scraps. Ianthe snorted at the look that the dog was giving Gibbs.
"He thinks you are an easy mark, but don't give in. He has a delicate stomach, and can't handle most 'people food'." Ianthe said, with humor.
A guilty look settled over Gibbs' face. "I already gave him a couple of bites of the meat mixture while you were cooking it." He said sheepishly.
Ianthe laughed. "That shouldn't be too bad. Meat doesn't usually make him sick. He might have some trouble with the beef, but the lamb should be fi..." She started, only to be interrupted by the doorbell. "I wonder who that could be." Gibbs heard her say over the dog's loud barking. Ianthe got up, and walked to the door.
Ianthe opened the door, holding on to Cloony's collar. She was surprised to see Aaron Hotchner on her doorstep. "Aaron? Come in. I wasn't expecting you." She said, waving him inside.
Hotch took in the warm interior, and the enormous dog lolling his tongue. "I'm sorry to come over, but I tried to call. It went straight to voicemail."
"Huh. I put it on the charger when I got home, that's odd. Anyway, what can I help you with?" Ianthe said, shutting the door behind him.
"We have been given a case. Your expertise is required. There is a Serial operating in the Seattle area, and he is leaving symbols and messages in his victims' blood." Hotch said, then noticed that he had interrupted a date.
'That answers whether or not she is single.' He thought to himself.
Gibbs looked up at the Agent that had shown up. He was around the same age as Ianthe, and he was looking over the scene with a critical eye. He had also noticed the man's gaze zeroing in on Ianthe's ass as she led him into the house.
Hotch noticed that Ianthe and her guest were eating dinner. The house smelled heavenly, and the scene was homey. "I am sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you and your Dad having dinner." Hotch said, then almost gaped at his own snide remark.
Gibbs suppressed a flinch at that statement. He leaned back lazily in his chair. "Oh, I am definitely not her Dad." He said, smirking.
Ianthe looked back and forth between them, sensing the tension, but not understanding it. "Aaron Hotchner, this is Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He is an NCIS Agent. Jethro, this is Aaron. He works for the FBI, BAU. How long until we leave?" She asked.
"Wheels up in 30 minutes. I can drive you to the airstrip if you want." Hotch said.
"That sounds good. Give me a few minutes to grab my bag." Ianthe said. She leaned over, and gave Gibbs an apologetic kiss on the cheek. "I am sorry I have to cut this short. Feel free to wrap up some leftovers. Cloony, come." She said, leading him over to the patio doors. She let the dog outside, then topped off his food and water bowls. "Give me five minutes." She said to Aaron, causing him to nod. "Jethro sweetheart, would you mind putting the food away? I need to get my things, and put cloony in his crate before we leave." She said.
As she jogged up the stairs, the men looked each other over, critically. Neither looked particularly impressed. "So, any idea how long you will be gone?" Gibbs asked.
"No, Mr Gibbs. Criminal Investigations do not follow a set time frame." Hotch said.
Gibbs gave Hotch a condescending look. "I know that, Hotchner. Probably a damn sight better than you. I have been doing this for almost twenty years." He said.
"Yes. I can tell you are an 'old timer'. " Aaron said wryly.
"Why, you little sh..." Gibbs started, stopping himself when he heard Ianthe on the stairs.
She was carrying a garment bag, and a small duffle. "Let me put the dog in his crate, and grab a raincoat. Then I'll be ready." Ianthe said, opening the french doors. "Cloony!" She yelled, stepping aside to let him in. She led him over to a small sunroom, and placed him in his huge crate. It contained food and water bowls, a large dog bed, and various toys and bones.
"Do you need me to let Cloony out in the morning, Ianthe?" Gibbs asked.
"Oh, thank you. I actually have a dog sitting service who comes over to walk him, and make sure he has food several times a day, but if you want to come over and play with the big baby, go right ahead." She said, giving him a grateful smile. Ianthe walked over to one of the drawers in her kichen, and pulled out a key. "Here is a spare key. The security code spells out 'poptart'. Will you lock the door behind yourself?" She asked.
"Of course. Come here." He said, opening his arms. He hugged her gently, and gave her a languid kiss. "Be careful." He said, looking deeply in her eyes.
"Always. You be careful, too. Take care of yourself. Take that food home. It would be a waste to leave it in my fridge." She said. She gave him a quick kiss, then picked up a large tupperware container off of the counter. Gibbs helped her with her coat.
Hotch picked up her bags, and took them out to his car. "Thanks for carrying my bags, you didn't have to." Ianthe said, as she climbed into his car.
"No problem. Did you find out what happened with your phone?" Hotch asked.
Ianthe grimaced. "Apparently the outlet I plugged it into is a dead outlet. The lamp plugged in there, wouldn't work either. I guess I'll have to call an electritian." She said, then tilted her head. "Maybe Jethro can fix it." She said.
Hotch handed her the case file, and started towards the airport. "Some of the photo's in there are graphic." He warned.
Ianthe raised an eyebrow at him. "My expertise is blood spatter. I am used to graphic."